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She moves! She moves!

October 17, 2010

I was kind of thinking of the end of August as the end of all that is warm and good and true. But it’s been a nice Fall, hasn’t it?

September in Edmonton

I underestimated you, Fall. You are golden and magnificent.

First Day of School

Here’s our big Flurfel news:

She (see above) is a schoolgirl. Yup. Kindergarten. It’s official. She swore she would hate every minute of it and I worried so about handing my baby off to the big scary machine that is institutionalized learning. I mean, really, how could I not worry? Wasn’t she just born yesterday?

Turns out she loves Kindergarten. And I love seeing her so engaged. And if I’m going to be completely honest, I even love the morning hustle. Getting myself and three kids un-jammied, pottied, fed, de-fooded, clothed, brushed, coated, backpacked, out the door, past the sandbox, past two playparks, and around one whole city block is really something, holy kermole. But the blast of fresh air, all the “good mornings” we exchange along the way, and the being dressed before noon actually makes me feel quite human, for a change.

In other news, she (see below) is crawling.

Now that I am not her sole method of locomotion, Jo is thrilled to seize life by whatever her little heart desires. Instead of having to bellow for everything to be handed to her, she can just crawl right over to this or that, give it a good shake, coat it in drool, toss it over her shoulder and move on to the next thing. She is a busy, busy girl.

For me that means there’s whole swaths of time (like ten minute swaths!) in which all three of my children are occupied. I’ve been able to prepare myself hot beverages and then to sit down and drink them. While they are still hot. It’s kind of mind-blowing.

In other news, he (see below) is a boy now.

This was our baby Oliver at end of August:


 He was beginning to remind us a lot of this guy:
I
It wasn’t just the hair but his tendency to swing from things, to communicate with grunts and monosyllables, to hurl heavy objects, and his occasional violent outbursts. I know, he looks harmless enough, but you’re not responsible for changing his loin cloth while he’s wielding a plastic sword.


But with babies, there’s always big changes just around the corner.

 
 
We donated his baby curls to the forest critters to build warm winter nests.

Now he’s a boy.

One of the most amazing developments to behold in small children is when they go from talking in single words to complex sentences. It’s called the “language explosion” because their vocabulary increases exponentially and so does their grammar. At the end of August he couldn’t say much else besides “more” and “No!” Now he’s saying things like, “I want a boat ride!” and “Look, I’m a sea turtle!” Of course, nobody but me, his Daddy and Hazel have a clue what he’s saying. He pronounces his name, “Aw-vah-lah!” But still, it’s a remarkable transformation. And now that he’s better able to communicate, he’s much less prone to frustration. Instead of hurling his supper at the kitchen wall, for example, he’ll say, “I’m all done supper. No more supper for Aw-vah-lah.”

Yesterday morning I was upstairs napping with the baby when he saw an opportunity to sneak away from his Daddy, climb the stairs, and to pounce on me. His mission was to seperate me from his baby sister and then to be rescued by me.

“I need Mama!” he cried, waving his blankie behind him like a cape.

“You’re like the opposite of a super-hero,” I said. “You’re an un-super hero. No, you’re a super un-hero.”

Then I giggled and he frowned and he said, “No, Mama. I’m a boy.”

He really, really is.

To recap, this fall Hazel started school, Jo started moving, and we said good-bye to baby Oliver, and hello to a boy!

XOXO
The Flurfels

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Aunt Martha permalink
    October 17, 2010 9:14 pm

    That is great.
    Beautiful picture of beautiful, wonderful, happy kids.
    Keep them coming.
    Love and Hugs to all

  2. November 1, 2010 3:46 pm

    Holy moly! How did I miss this post? So many changes. How’s your heart doing? Does Oliver miss his hair at all?

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